


Fraternization

by j_quadrifrons



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Boss/Employee Relationship, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Social Awkwardness, poor communication skills, tfw your boss just does things without telling you but it's also kind of sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:55:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22069621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_quadrifrons/pseuds/j_quadrifrons
Summary: Peter takes Martin out to dinner.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Peter Lukas
Comments: 14
Kudos: 75
Collections: End-of-Year Exchange 2019





	Fraternization

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cruelest_month](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruelest_month/gifts).



Martin stared at the menu in horror. This was emphatically not the kind of thing he had been planning on for dinner -- although to be totally honest he hadn't been planning at all, given that he didn't tend to leave the Institute much any more and his stash of pot noodles and power bars didn't require much forethought. "I don't even know what some of this is," he muttered in no direction in particular, largely to distract himself from the fact that there weren't actually any prices listed anywhere.

"Hm?" Peter said from the other side of the table, where he hadn't bothered with his menu at all and was instead sitting leaned back with his hands folded across his chest, regarding Martin with an unreadable expression. "Oh, don't worry, it's all perfectly palatable to most humans."

"That's not -- Christ, fine." He considered developing a shellfish allergy out of sheer spite.

As it happened, Peter just ordered "whatever's good," and Martin gave up and told the waiter he'd have the same. The wine was equally incomprehensible to him but doubtless even more disgustingly expensive, and he refused to drink it properly out of principle, downing one glass in under a minute which, okay, was probably a mistake but was also making an unexpected dinner with his boss significantly more tolerable.

He spent the better part of the first hour trying to suss out what it was Peter had wanted to discuss. Presumably not the Extinction, out in public like this -- although he knew Peter could prevent anyone from overhearing, the waiters came by regularly -- so probably some kind of personnel problem. Which made him uncomfortable, so he had to do everything in the world to distract from it. Martin floated every possible issues he could remember, from the library rebellion to Dave in Research, and Peter brushed them all aside without so much as a twitch. He even went so far as to bring up Melanie, but Peter just said, "please, Martin, I've told you. Whatever is going on in the Archives, it's none of my business."

Peter refusing to engage with work was hardly a surprise, but this didn't even feel like he was avoiding something, just that he was on the wrong track entirely. It was when Peter ordered a second bottle of wine and sent the sommelier to Martin's glass first that something finally clicked.

"Is this a  _ date?"  _ Martin hissed as soon as the man had gone.

Peter, as usual, showed no awareness of his tone. "Yes!" he said cheerfully, entirely unconcerned. "Are you enjoying yourself, Martin?"

Martin closed his eyes briefly, collecting himself. There was no point shouting, Peter would just vanish anybody who tried to get involved in a scene. And frankly Martin didn't particularly want to make a scene either. "People customarily talk about themselves on dates," he said instead, level and almost calm.

"Do they?" Peter frowned. "That sounds extremely unpleasant for both parties."

Martin had to bite back a laugh, just to keep from encouraging him. "It usually is, yeah," he admitted.

And all right, there was something pleasant about not having to struggle to make conversation. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence by any means. They'd gotten good, Martin supposed, at being silent in each other's company. Or maybe it was just part of what Peter was.

He still avoided letting Peter help him with his chair or his coat as they left, although he did try. Socially prescribed gallantry that didn't mean anything wasn't Martin's favorite thing, and it definitely didn't send something swimming inside of him when Peter looked a little disappointed. That was just the wine. There had been a lot of wine.

"Shall I walk you home?" Peter said with a wink, as if they weren't both heading straight back to the Institute, Martin to get back to the budget he'd been dragged away from and Peter because...well, actually Martin wasn't sure where Peter lived. He wouldn't put it past Elias to have a full penthouse suite in the Institute that Peter was living in, if he didn't just disappear into the fog and hibernate there or something.

They stop outside Martin's office door, Peter with his hands comfortably in his pockets and Martin feeling strangely outside of himself, more than even the wine could justify. "This is me, then," he said, following the script because he couldn't think of anything else. Then he gave Peter an assessing look. He hadn't disappeared yet, which was already a surprise, and Martin had always kind of wondered…

Before he could think better of the impulse, Martin wrapped his arms around Peter's neck and stepped in close. He was indeed as good to hug as he always looked, broad shoulders and firm muscle under a layer of softness.  _ In for a penny,  _ Martin thought wildly, and pulled back just enough to kiss him.

Peter didn't kiss back on instinct, but that was fine; his breath tasted like cold sea air and his beard was wonderfully rough against Martin's face. He let it linger just long enough that he was starting to feel a bit ridiculous, then let go and stepped back.

Martin was pretty proud of himself; he's never managed to surprise Peter that thoroughly before. His eyes were wide with shock, and under his pale skin a blush was rising on his cheeks. Before it had a chance to fully develop, though, there was a wisp of fog and the buzz of static in Martin's fillings, and Peter was gone.

"Goodnight, then," Martin said to the probably empty hallway.

He didn't bother trying to hide his grin; he didn't think he could have managed it anyway. Even the next morning, as he tried to scrub the hangover away with terrible canteen coffee, it hadn't entirely gone away.

**Author's Note:**

> Please come yell about TMA with me, I have too many feelings  
> [@j_quadrifrons](https://twitter.com/j_quadrifrons), [backofthebookshelf](https://backofthebookshelf.tumblr.com)


End file.
